Women working in the salt pans in southern India suffer not just from government apathy. Earning pittances for their hard work in the hot sun, these women also endure bad health due to dehydration, joint pains, poor eyesight and miscarriages.

Prakasam, Andhra Pradesh: Common salt, an essential part of
everyone's daily health requirement, causes uncommonly harsh travails
for those who manufacture it.

Pattapu Shakuntala has been living with deteriorating eyesight for
over a decade. She also constantly complains of headaches, dizzy spells
and vaginal discharge. She also suffers from a nagging pain in her
neck, shoulders, knees and lower back. This is, of course, in addition
to the trauma of having undergone two miscarriages.

With such a long list of ailments, one would imagine that
Shakuntala is elderly. But she is in her late 20s. So why is she
plagued with so many health problems? "It is the result of the salt
work I do," she answers. "All the women in my village have the same
symptoms."

A resident of Kothapatnam village in the coastal Prakasam district of
Andhra Pradesh, Shakuntala was born into a family of traditional
salt-makers. At the age of 12, she started working on the family's 1.5
five-acre saltpan, six months a year. Her schedule remains the same
even now.

Six years ago, she was married into another salt-making family. "A
woman's work in the salt pans involves long hours in the sun during the
hot season," she elaborates.

Arduous job

"At the beginning of every production cycle, the land in the pan
has to be stamped and levelled for several hours - with our bare feet.
At the end of the production process, the salt has to be carried in
head-loads from the pans to the storage platforms.

Between these two activities, the older women travel to the
interiors, to various towns and villages, to sell the salt," says
Shakuntala. (A salt production cycle comprises seven days. The pans are
filled with seawater and left to dry. The sea salt, which contains
natural iodine, is ready when the water dries up.)

But for all this hard work, the money that the women - of the
6,000-odd salt-making families in Prakasam and an equal number who work
as labourers - get is pittance.

Furthermore, the women have to pay dearly with their health.

Says Battala Seetharamamma, 50, "What we earn from all our hard
work is not even enough to treat all the ailments that come with it,
let alone cover other expenses. We live and die in sickness."

Meagre income

Most saltpans in the district are family-run. But the price that
the salt fetches in bulk sales is extremely low - anything between Rs
25 and Rs 35 (US$1=Rs 39.90) for 75 kg. This translates into Rs 0.33 to
Rs 0.45 per kg.

This means that the task of the women travelling door-to-door
selling the salt is onerous. Their sales expertise is crucial to the
family finances: retail sale fetches one rupee per kg of salt -
pathetically low, but nevertheless desperately needed.

Formed in 2005, the Prakasam District Salt Farmers' Forum (PDSFF)
has studied the problems faced by women working in saltpans. The PDSFF
has been largely responsible for organising the salt-makers and helping
them with their bulk marketing of the salt.

Interestingly, salt manufacturing and sale in bulk has nothing to
do with iodisation. Only edible salt has to be iodised. And most of the
salt produced by these people is sold in bulk to traders, so the
responsibility of iodisation does not rest with them.

According to Y. Ramakrishnan, project in-charge, Social Activities
for Rural Development Society (SARDS), a local NGO that helped set up
PDSFF, "Financial and health problems are common to everyone involved
in traditional salt-making, but women face distinctive problems in both
these areas."

According to the PDSFF estimates, a woman sells about one quintal
of salt every day. R. Pothuraju, Convenor, PDSFF, says, "Women usually
transport about one quintal of salt to their retail destination, from
where they carry it in head-loads of 20 to 30 kg through the streets."

Every woman earns an average of Rs 50 from the sale of a quintal
of salt, from which they pay the travel costs - amounting to around Rs
15 to Rs 20. "At the end of the day, they take back no more than Rs 25
to Rs 30," says P. Sharada, co-convenor, PDSSF. In addition, they have
to endure the harassment of ticket collectors and railway staff, as the
latter object to the open loads of salt.

The growing popularity of packaged salt has added to the woes of
these women, as people in towns are no longer willing to buy loose
salt. As a result, they have to travel further into the interiors.
Commuting here is difficult and expensive and this eats into the profit
margins. "Our customer-base in towns and villages close to our
residences is dwindling each year. So we have to travel into unknown
villages more often," rues Sharada.

Adverse impact on health

The health impact of salt work is grave. "The greatest hazard of
working in the saltpans," says Pothuraju, a resident of Pakkala
village, "is the long hours of exposure to the sun." Dehydration is
common as there are no drinking water facilities at or near the
saltpans.

For women, this dehydration and heat exposure over long periods
results in various gynaecological problems, from vaginal itching to
miscarriages. According to Sharada, at least 30 per cent of women
working in the saltpans have undergone miscarriages. Also, there are no
medical facilities in the village.

Other problems such as poor eyesight due to the glare from the
salt; and the splitting of the soles of the feet as a result of
excessive contact with salt affect women as much as men.

Carrying heavy loads of salt - both at the pans and while selling
door-to-door - is a job reserved for women and girls. This usually
causes severe aches in the neck, back, knees and head, and constant
fatigue. Due to repeated travel into new areas and overnight stay,
these women are also at risk of sexual harassment and of contracting
HIV, Ramakrishnan notes.

"All our financial problems would be solved if the government
ensures a fair support price for our salt," says Kuntori Sheshamma, a
saltpan owner from village Kothapatnam. "And half our health problems
would disappear if drinking water was supplied at the salt pans."
Saltpan owners are also demanding a support price of a minimum of one
rupee per kg in bulk and Rs 2 per kg in retail.

The PDSFF has helped frame the demands of the community, including
their need for potable water facilities near the pans and for
protective gear for workers - dark glasses and suitable footwear.

The forum has also listed the need for free medical facilities and
medical insurance for salt workers, both pan-owners and labourers. The
PDSFF plans to present the demands to a government agency soon.